Jake stood on the pier with a crudely stitched duffel bag tucked under his arm, its weight familiar and grounding. The wooden planks beneath his boots were damp with sea spray, slick enough that he had to be careful where he stepped. Ahead of him, the ocean stretched endlessly, a dark, restless expanse separating the Empire from the rest of the world. A world that, according to every map and every whispered report, was now largely uninhabited. Or worse, inhabited by things that no longer counted as people.
The ship waited for them.
It was enormous, its hull carved from dark, reinforced wood streaked with iron bands and glowing runes faintly etched along its sides. Despite the rough waves battering the pier, the vessel barely shifted, anchored with a confidence that made Jake uneasy. The ocean looked violent to him, waves crashing and recoiling like something alive, but he had never been to the beach much back on Earth. For all he knew, this was normal.
It did not feel normal.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
Jake turned and saw Luna standing behind him, hands tucked into the pockets of a black leather trench coat that flowed slightly in the wind. The coat looked dramatic, almost theatrical, its dark fabric rippling like a banner. Jake already knew whose idea it had been. Luna had cornered the battalion's beyonder tailor days ago and insisted on having it made, practicality be damned.
It made some sense, he supposed. The Iqueza Ocean was infamous for violent storms, and most expeditions never even made it past the waters. They sank long before reaching land. At least the coat would keep her dry.
That knowledge did nothing to calm the twisting knot in Jake's stomach as the gangplank dropped and the order to board was given.
As he stepped onto the ship, a wave smashed against the hull, sending a spray of cold saltwater into the air. Jake flinched instinctively, gripping the railing as if the sea itself might try to drag him back.
On deck, the stronger beyonders moved with practiced efficiency. Crates of food, barrels of water, coils of rope, spare weapons, and bundles of equipment were lifted and carried below as if they weighed nothing. Luna was among them, hoisting a crate onto her shoulder and disappearing down the stairs without breaking stride.
Jake watched for a moment, feeling the familiar sting of comparison. He was not weak, not by any reasonable standard, but against beyonders gifted with raw physical strength, the gap was obvious. Trying to measure himself against them was pointless. A losing battle from the start.
He turned away and made his way below deck.
The lower level of the ship opened into two long corridors running parallel to one another. Narrow lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting warm, swaying light over rows of identical doors. This would be home for the next several weeks, shared with dozens of other beyonders chosen for the expedition.
Not all of them.
That still bothered him.
Marquis had deliberately left many behind. Cooks. Craftsmen. Support beyonders whose gifts could have been invaluable. When Jake had asked why, the answer had been simple.
It would be a shame if they died out there.
Jake chose a door near the stairs and stepped inside. The room was small, no larger than a modest hotel room back on Earth. Two narrow beds sat against opposite walls, with a small table bolted between them. A single circular window was set into the hull, thick glass fogged slightly by sea air. It offered no real view, only a sense of light and weather.
He dropped his duffel bag onto one of the beds and opened it, pulling out his spear. The familiar weight of it steadied him. He leaned it carefully against the wall beneath the window, where it would be easy to grab if needed.
After that, there was nothing else to do. The room was claimed. No one would take it. Even if Tom's weapons were valuable, the battalion had enough pride and enough sense not to steal from one another. Besides, Dave and Esther's work was more than respectable. With proper resources and time, they could rival anyone. Unfortunately, neither resource was plentiful.
Jake left the room and returned to the upper deck.
The sun was sinking, painting the sky in deep orange and gold. Both moons were already visible, pale and watchful. At the rear of the ship, the pilot stood within a reinforced bridge, windows wrapping around him to give a clear view of the sea. Jake had learned his name was Yutra. Russian. The knowledge did not comfort him. Russia and naval disasters had a reputation, at least in Jake's mind.
Luna joined him at the railing. Her trench coat was now unbuttoned, revealing a white tank top beneath. Modern clothing had made a quiet resurgence after a group of fashion-minded beyonders started recreating Earth designs. The trend had spread faster than Jake expected. It still startled him to see local villagers wearing jeans. Once, he had asked a young boy if he was a beyonder, only to receive a confused stare before the kid ran off to his father.
Jake stuck to his military uniform. It was practical, accepted everywhere, and made him feel like he belonged. Even now, as they sailed south into uncharted territory, he trusted it more than anything else he owned.
"I grabbed us a room," Jake said casually. "Closest one to the upper deck. Feels kind of like a hotel if you squint."
Jake glanced back just as the gangplank retracted and the ship began to move. His stomach lurched. Not wanting to watch land slip away, he motioned for Luna to follow and hurried below deck.
He swung the door open with exaggerated pride. "Behold. Luxury."
Luna stepped inside, looking around. "Feels worse than the beyonder cabin."
"Low standards," Jake replied.
She shrugged, pulled off her trench coat, and tossed it onto one of the beds before flopping down. The bed creaked loudly under her weight.
"Oh wow," she sighed. "That's actually comfortable."
Jake tested the other bed and immediately understood. The mattress was soft, almost indulgent, cradling him instead of fighting his weight.
"No kidding," he muttered.
Exhaustion caught up with him quickly. The rocking of the ship was oddly soothing, and before he realized it, sleep pulled him under.
He woke to the sound of gentle waves.
Rubbing his eyes, Jake looked toward the window. The sky outside was dark red and silver, moonlight reflecting across the water. Night had fallen.
Luna stirred at the same time.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a loud moan echoed through the thin wall beside them.
Luna shot upright and stared at him.
Jake nodded once.
Without a word, they both leaned toward the wall, pressing their ears against it. After a few seconds, they pulled back, eyes wide, hands clamped over their mouths.
A beyonder couple. Right next door.
Luna broke first, dissolving into silent laughter. Jake followed seconds later, shoulders shaking as he struggled to breathe. The absurdity of it all hit them at once, and neither could stop. Minutes passed as muffled sounds continued and their laughter refused to die down.
Eventually, Jake collapsed back onto his bed, gasping for air. Luna followed suit.
"This is ridiculous," she whispered.
Jake nodded. "I'm going back to sleep. I refuse to process this."
He closed his eyes and, somehow, managed to fall asleep again.
***
Three weeks passed.
Nothing rose from the depths to devour the ship. No ancient sea monster. No sudden catastrophe. Aside from one brutal storm that forced everyone below deck and left more than a few beyonders vomiting into buckets, the journey was uneventful.
Jake and Luna trained in their room when space allowed. They sparred, stretched, and passed the time with dumb pranks, including convincing one unlucky beyonder that he could see ghosts. The poor guy had panicked completely when Luna appeared in a torn bedsheet in the middle of the night.
Now, Jake sat on the edge of the ship as it slowed near a quiet shoreline. Pale sand stretched ahead, framed by unfamiliar trees and jagged rock formations. The land looked calm, almost inviting.
It was not.
The expedition had officially begun.